'You may see my ambitions in America as being motivated merely by revenge,' Cicero Hood continued, 'but I wish to build something in the country of my birth as strong as that which I am building here. The whites of the United States are decadent - perhaps they have always been decadent. A new enthusiasm, however, can be generated amongst the blacks. I intend to put power into their hands. I intend to liberate America. Have you not heard what is happening there now? Having no real enemy to fight any longer, the whites turn, as always, upon the minorities. They wiped out the Red Indians - now they plan to wipe out the Negroes. It is the spirit of Salem - the corrupting influence of Puritanism which in itself is a perversion of the Stoic ideal - infecting what remains of a nation which could have set an example to the world, just as Bantustan now sets an example. That spirit must be exorcised for good and all. When the whites are conquered they will not be enslaved, as we were enslaved. They will be given a place in the New Ashanti Empire; they will be given a chance to earn their way to full equality. I shall take their power from them - but I shall not take their dignity. The two have been confused for too long. But only a black man realizes that - for he has had the experience during centuries of exploitation by the whites!'
It was a noble speech (even if I was sceptical of its logic), but I could not resist, at last, making a remark which General Hood was bound to find telling.
'It is possible, General Hood,' I said, 'that you can convince us that your motives are idealistic, but you have told us yourself that the Australasian-Japanese Federation is not so convinced. There is every chance that they will be able to thwart your scheme. What then? You will have risked everything and achieved nothing. Why not concentrate on building Africa into a single great nation? Forget your hatred of the United States. Let it find its own solutions. The A.J.F. is probably as powerful as the Ashanti Empire…'
'Oh, probably more powerful now!' It was the clear, sweet voice of Una Persson that interrupted me. She had entered through a door behind Hood's throne. 'I have just received confirmation, General Hood, of what I suspected. O'Bean is in Tokyo. He has been there, it seems, since the outbreak of the war. He has been convinced that Ashanti represents a further threat to the world. He has been working on plans for a new fleet for nearly two years. Already a score of his ships have been built in the shipyards of Sydney and Melbourne and are ready to sail. Unless we mobilize immediately, there is every chance that we shall be defeated.'
General Hood's response was unexpected. He looked first at me, then at Una Persson, then he threw back his head and he laughed long and heartily.
'Then we mobilize,' he said. 'Oh, by all means - we mobilize. I am going home, Miss Persson. I am going homel'
Book Two
The Battle for Washington
1. THE TWO FLEETS MEET
Looking back, I suppose I should count myself fortunate in having, by a strange set of circumstances, been not only a witness to Hood's decision to risk everything he had gained by invading America, but to experience the invasion (and its aftermath) itself. Not many young officers are given such an opportunity.
My determination to take the law into my own hands if I judged Hood 'guilty' remained as strong, but I was already beginning to realize that the Black Attila was a far subtler individual than I had at first supposed. Moreover, I soon came to learn that his ferocity, his reputation for putting to death or enslaving whole cities, was something of a myth which he encouraged. It was useful to him if his enemies believed the myth, for it quite often resulted in all but bloodless conquests I The defenders would prefer to parley rather than fight, and would often ask for terms quite inferior to those Hood was prepared to grant I This meant that, when he proposed terms which wejre better than they had expected, he gained the reputation of munificence which was quite undeserved, but encouraged the conquered to work willingly for him - out of a sense of relief as much as any other consideration.
I saw little either of Hood or Una Persson in the following week. They were far too involved in their plans for mobilization. We of the diplomatic mission could only gather what information was available and relay it to Bantustan. We were allowed, in the first days, to communicate information of all kinds freely to our own country, but a little later a certain censorship was imposed as General Hood became nervous of news reaching Tokyo. I think he had heard that the A.J.E. fleet was making for the Atlantic. The largest part of the Ashanti fleet had been based in Europe, where it was most useful, and some ships had to be recalled, while others were ordered to assemble in Hamburg, Copenhagen, Gothenburg and other Northern European ports, preparatory to sailing for America.
I gathered that Hood was not merely relying on his vast land, air and sea fleets, but had some other counter to play. From something Una Persson had said, I thought her trip to England had played a part in Hood's 'secret weapon' being developed, but I was to learn more of this later.
My next surprise came a day or two before Hood was due to sail. Una Persson visited me at the legation, where I was busy with some sort of meaningless paperwork. She apologized for disturbing me and said that General Hood would like to see me for a few moments during luncheon.
I went unwillingly. Privately I was sure that the powerful Australasian-Japanese Federation would put a stop to his dreams of conquest forever and that I no longer had a part to play in the history of this world. I was looking forward to returning to Bantustan when the Ashanti Empire collapsed, as it was bound to do.
Hood had almost finished luncheon when I arrived at the palace. He was sitting at the head of a long table surrounded by his chief ministers and generals. There were charts spread among the remains of a simple meal and black faces were bent over them, conversing in low, urgent tones. All looked up as I arrived, and several frowned, making insulting remarks about their meal being spoiled by the sight of a white man. I had become quite used to this sort of thing from Hood's
lieutenants (though, to be fair, not all were so ill-mannered) and was able to ignore the comments, saying: 'You sent for me, general?'
Hood seemed surprised to see me. He looked vaguely at me for a moment and then snapped his fingers as if remembering why he had sent for me. 'Ah, yes, Mr Bastable. Just to tell you to have a bag packed by tomorrow morning and to present yourself to the captain of the Dingisivayo. He is expecting you. I've exchanged communications with President Gandhi and he is agreeable to the scheme. You have been seconded to my staff. You're coming with us to America, Mr Bastable. Congratulations.'
There was nothing I could say. I tried to think of some retort, failed, and saluted. 'Very well, sir.' Whether there was some deeper motive involved, or whether this was just another example of Hood's quixotic and whimsical behaviour where my fate was concerned I did not know. It seems that by taking my initial decision I was now bound to follow it through all the way.
And that was how I came to be the only white officer to accompany the sea-borne Black Horde when it sailed out over the Atlantic bound for New York with the express intention of destroying forever the power of the Caucasian race.
My life has been full of ironies since my first, ill-fated expedition to Teku Benga, but I think that that remains the greatest irony of them all.
Hood had thrown virtually everything he had into the invasion fleet. Surface and underwater vessels, airships of every description, came together at last just off the coast of Iceland - a fleet which filled the sky and occupied the ocean for as far as the eye could see. Aboard the ships were stored Hood's vast collection of land ironclads and in the centre of all these there rose a gigantic hull, specially built but utterly mysterious in its purpose, which could not progress under its own power but which had to be towed by thirty other battleships. I guessed that this must surely be Hood's secret weapon, but neither I nor any of the other officers aboard the Dingiswayo had any inkling of its nature. And all the while news was coming through of the Australasian-Japanese fleet converging on our own.